


It could very well be time to panic and/or cry

by Bakurakrazie



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakurakrazie/pseuds/Bakurakrazie
Summary: What if Undertale, but Sanders Sides? The four boys fall (literally) into the world of Undertale. Warnings: canon-typical violence (pacifist route), and truly trulyawfulpuns.
Relationships: Eventual Relationship(s) - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	It could very well be time to panic and/or cry

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this fic contains major spoilers for Undertale. If you've never played it, please hit me up, I'll recommend some let's plays for you. Fic can be found on my tumblr [here, come hang out!](https://bilgisticallykosher.tumblr.com/post/616245308618342400/it-could-very-well-be-time-to-panic-andor-cry)
> 
> Title from My Negative Thinking, chapter title from Why Do We Get Out Of Bed In The Morning?

Thomas Sanders had decided to take a trip to a mountainside with his best friends, Joan and Talyn. Strangely enough, he had no concrete reason for going to specifically this mountainside, in fact, practically every part of him was screaming at him not to do it. It was just this strange compulsion that he had that he ought to go there. He packed a lunch for them all to enjoy, and a blanket to eat on, because it was cheesily cliche. When they all got to their destination, it seemed that Thomas wasn't the only one confused by his choice of lunch spot.

“Hey, dude, not that I don't appreciate the _aesthetic,_ ” Talyn wiggled their fingers for emphasis while Thomas set up the blanket, “but you know that this is an abandoned spot for a reason, right?” 

“Yeah, Tom I'm-All-Thumbs, this place has its own legend and everything,” Joan added. 

“Well,” began Thomas, setting down the food and dusting himself off. “it's weird, I just… sort of got the urge to come here? What's the legend?” 

"Read the signs, dude," Joan replied, offhandedly.

"What, like the spooky atmosphere, or lack of people?" Thomas quirked his head to the side. 

"Nope." Joan pointed at a literal sign posted a few feet from their spot. Thomas wandered over to read it. 

LEGENDS SAY THAT TRAVELLERS WHO CLIMB MOUNT EBOTT ARE SAID TO DISAPPEAR. 

…That was it. 

“Huh, that's appropriately ominous.” Thomas shrugged as he turned around, Talyn and Joan sitting down. “We'll be fine, guys, I'm sure. So, what-” he cut himself off as he heard footsteps.

As one, all of their heads turned towards the source of the noise, trying to see what was making it. They didn't have to wait long. A small child emerged, wearing a blue and pink striped garment. They looked over at the group, slowing their steps, but not stopping. 

“Hey there, my name's Thomas. What're you doing here?” Thomas gave a little wave as their eyebrows constricted. They didn't look angry, though. 

“Are you with someone? Did you get separated?” Talyn spoke softly, trying to gauge their reaction. The child hesitated, then shook their head slowly. The three friends shared a look at the distressing answer and didn't notice them continuing to walk around a rock formation. 

“Listen, kid, if you want, we've got extra food if you wanna sit down or something,” Joan tapped the picnic basket for emphasis. Thomas started walking towards the child, trying to keep his movements open so as not to appear threatening. Suddenly, the child bolted around the bend, running at top speed, Thomas immediately followed, calling out. 

“Hey, stop! You could get hurt!” He watched the kid and the ground as best he could, seeing them run into a cave, limiting his vision. Thomas cursed under his breath, “Shoot,” trying to increase speed to reach the running child, just as he was barely able to see them jump over a creeping vine that he hadn't even noticed, run with a last small burst of energy, and jump down into a big chasm. “NO!” He maneuvered over the vine, and leaned over down into the giant hole. 

As the top half of his body leaned over, he felt the familiar sensation of the four main facets of his personality slip out. Rising up. 

And falling down. 

Thomas stretched his arm out towards them, all of them wearing near identical looks of slow realization turning into horror. They scrambled on air, trying to clutch towards the hand Thomas proffered, all five of them screaming, and then, nothing, as they fell into the darkness. 

Joan and Talyn came up behind Thomas, who was still screaming. They each put a hand on a shoulder. He stopped, looking agonized.

“That's a good hold. Nice lung work, Thomas,” remarked Talyn casually, looking down, beside him as he covered his face with his hands. “So, the kid fell down there, huh?”

“Yeah…” 

“Those were your Sides that went down after? Weird that they were an actual thing.” Joan shifted their beanie. 

“Yeah…”

“Well, look at it this way. This sequence of events is just too weird to have happened accidentally. It's probably just some weird plot device to set up some contrived story that otherwise wouldn't happen. It'll all work out in the end, probably. I wouldn't worry about it.”

Thomas slowly lowered his hands to see Talyn nodding in agreement. 

“...Yeah, you're probably right." He paused for a beat. "Who wants snacks?”

“Me, me!” 

Meanwhile, down, down, _down_ the hole that five figures fell into, four were trying to sort out how they landed. They groaned collectively, some more so than others. The first one to compose himself spoke first. 

“Is everyone alright?” His tone was light and high, and had a bubbly quality to it, despite the fall. 

“I seem to all be in one piece,” intoned the second one, voice strong and sure. 

“Of course you are, genius, you landed on _me_ ,” the third's was gruff, dry, and deeper than the others. 

“Whoops…” The topmost person delicately stepped off of his inadvertent captive. 

“Now be nice,” the first voice chided, “after all, I'm sure he didn't mean it, and, well, you landed on me.” There was a sharp inhale of breath. 

“Sorry, hold on- help me up, Princey, I'm stuck on someone.” There was a moment of shuffling. “Wait, if you're there- oh my god, I'm sorry!” Having finally righted himself, he held out a hand to help the other up. 

“Hey, Encyclopedia, are you still with us? Say something.”

“I am… adequate. I don't seem to have broken or sprained anything.” The last one finally spoke, voice stilted and even, if a little muffled. That was probably due to the fact that he was lying face down. “It appears that these flowers broke our fall.”

“Wow, looks like you did a real, _face-plant_ there!” There was an immediate sound of muffled screaming into a flower bed.

“Say,” the one who had been called Princey began, “shouldn't we have seen that child by now?” As one, they all turned their heads around, looking back and forth until the last one sat up and cleaned off his, thankfully intact, glasses. As he placed them back on his face, he peered intently around the landscape, mostly darkness, until he stared towards the corner where Frisk had been hiding in the shadows. 

“There!” He pointed towards what was definitely coming into view as a pair of shoes trying to stay hidden the longer he concentrated on it. Princey immediately ran towards the child, and they were able to look at him properly. He looked exactly like Thomas, the one who had tried to help them out earlier. Although, his chest was puffed out more, and held himself upright. He was also evidently wearing some form of costume, white with a red sash, gold trim. Frisk couldn't help but be reminded of a friend.

Still, he was sort of...a lot, and quite frankly, they were weirded out because where had he, or the others, come from? 

“Hello there, I'm your Prince in shining armor! It is wonderful to make your acquaintance!” The child was aware, distantly, of the three others brushing themselves off in the background, and walking towards them. The Prince stretched out his hand in offer, and they took a step back. He immediately pulled his hand back, bringing both of his up in front of him, in a placating gesture. He didn't exactly shrink away, but he did crouch a little. He continued speaking as though this were perfectly fine. “I have come here to rescue you,” he was no longer quite so loud. One of the others came into view and cleared his throat.

He had glasses and a tie. He was dressed much less extravagantly, but he also wasn't smiling. Frisk resisted taking another step backwards. “Okay, _fine,_ then. _We_ have come here to rescue you.” Prince crossed his arms. The other brought his fist up to his mouth and coughed gently again. “Oh, what _now_?”

“Technically, while we did engage in pursuit, or at least, Thomas did, we did, in fact, fall down this cavern completely accidentally.” Prince stood up and turned to glare at him, until the other two came up between them.

“Now come on, you two,” said someone else with glasses, a blue shirt, and some sweater tied around his neck, “let's play nice." He looked at the Prince, unmistakably chastising him. "We're all on this rescue mission now, and Lo," he looked towards the one in the tie, "don't make it seem like we don't care about the kid.” He gestured towards them. The one in the tie, Lo, crossed his arms with a huff. 

“I never said anything of the sort,” he mumbled. The one with the sweater ignored him and slowly crouched down next to the child. 

“Hey there, kiddo. What's your name?” They looked over at him, hesitated, then answered, 

“Frisk.” 

“Well, you sure took a big _Frisk_ jumping down here, for sure!” Lo whipped his head towards him and glared, but Frisk quietly laughed, and they noticed that he stayed silent.

Princey caught Sweater's eye at the laughter, and they smiled at each other. He rose from his position gracefully, but not suddenly, and stepped back. “So, Frisk, what pronouns do you use?” At first their jaw dropped a little bit, immediately turning their head to face the sweater-wearer directly. And if they had been smiling at the joke beforehand, they were outright beaming now. 

“They,” they supplied, grinning even brighter when he mirrored theirs right back. Frisk couldn't help but glance at the others’ reactions, which seemed if not as equally positive as Sweater's, in the Prince’s case, then neutral in Lo's. That was good enough for them! 

“Wonderful! And we all utilize he/him.” Prince turned towards Lo, voice mocking, “See, you're not the only one that can provide clarification.” Lo raised an eyebrow, smiling out of one side of his mouth. 

“That was an excellent time for clarification, in fact. I'm pleased that you were able to apply what you've learned from me to this situation,” Lo adjusted his glasses, straight out smirking. 

“... Exacting egghead." Lo scoffed, uncrossing his arms as Princey turned back to them. “Now, Frisk, it is time for us to make our daring rescue. Some of us will stay down here with you, while the others shall sink back down. Don't worry, my little monarch," and Frisk got a jolt of familiarity from that nickname, but unlike when a certain someone else said it, they got a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through them. The prince continued "We'll have Thomas’s help to get you back up posthaste! ”

It was then that the fourth person came forward into the light. He was wearing a black zip-up sweater with a hood, which had purple patches on it. 

“About that,” he drawled, a dark look on his face as his eyes flitted to look at everyone else. “I've been trying the last five minutes to get back to him, and something's stopping me. I can't get back.” The other three turned their heads in sync, staring at him, expressions serious. Frisk looked on in confusion. 

“Surely there must be an explanation for this. It is possible that you're not in the right mental state due to stress. Perhaps one of us should try?” Lo adjusted his glasses as they all looked at each other. The Prince spoke first. 

“Well, of course, I shall give it a go, and when I succeed, I'll take the helm,”

“What are we, a boat,” muttered Lo under his breath.

“And right this situation once I speak with Thomas,” the Prince finished his thought, hand over his chest, apparently unconcerned with the interruption. “I'll be back!” He threw his hand up in the air, looking up at it dramatically, before suddenly…

Nothing happened. Time passed. Nothing continued to happen. The purple patched figure glared at him then turned back to Lo and Sweater. 

“See? It's not just me, if _he_ can't do it,” he gestured towards the Prince, continuing through grit teeth, “then doesn't that mean something's _wrong?_ ” Princey let his hand fall down out of the air, letting it propel him into a slouch, bottom lip outwardly extended. 

“Why can't I get back? This makes no sense! Make this make sense, Wikipedia!” Lo hesitated, coughed, and adjusted his glasses. 

“Well, while you were in the middle of failing quite spectacularly, I, myself, tried to get back up, and was also unable to.” 

“Ha!” He wagged his finger at him. “You failed, too!”

“Just not in as grandiose a manner as you did.” Princey opened his mouth, glaring, when Frisk decided to chime in, voice quiet as they tried to figure out what was happening. 

“If,” they spoke up, then took a breath in as everyone turned towards them, before continuing, voice steadier. “If you're talking about going back up, there's a magic barrier. We can't get through it.” Frisk was silent again after the statement.

They all stared. The purple one started narrowing his eyes, before he and Lo spoke at the same time. 

“What do you-” 

“How can you be-”

“-Thomas,” the one with the sweater spoke mournfully, staring at his feet. “We can't get back to Thomas. What are we going to do?” He looked up, pleadingly at each of them in turn. “How is he going to get around without us?” The four of them exchanged weary glances, until he locked eyes with Frisk. 

“Um,” they began, hesitant again, as they started to play with their sleeves, “I think I heard a voice in the other room. Maybe there's someone there that'll help you guys?” They were looking away, so they didn't see the purple-patched man’s eyes narrow, before turning towards Lo where they both mirrored each other’s raised eyebrow, before looking back at Frisk. 

“Well, alright, kiddo. We can try that,” Sweater agreed, with a smile and sad eyes. “Oh, but you know what? We never introduced ourselves!” There was a loud gasp from the Prince. He had his hand over his chest. 

“By the beard of Merlin's dragon,” Lo made an indiscernible noise, “you're right! Well, allow me to go first. My name is Ro-"

" _No!_ "

They all turned towards the purple one, Frisk was wide-eyed and slightly frightened, their chest clenching. They really hadn't been expecting that. He cleared his throat. 

“Anxiety,” he hunched his shoulders, glaring at the ground. Lo stared at him, Ro gasped, right hand coming to join his left on his chest, Sweater's smile falling further than it already had. 

“But, Vir-” Sweater started protesting. 

_“Anxiety,”_ the purple sweater man bit out harder, looking back up at him. “I know, I _know,_ " Sweater looked devastated, and Frisk didn't quite know why, but it didn't make the uncomfortable feeling in their chest go away any. "But I've got a bad feeling about this whole thing, and we can't get back, and- and something's just _off_ about it,” he glanced at Lo, who met his gaze evenly “and I don't think we should be using our real names.” He met eyes with Prince Ro, who frowned. 

“Now come on, Vi- alright, _Anxiety,_ then,” he amended, after seeing his glare directed towards him, and ignoring the flinch after the correction. “But I think you're being ridiculous.” Anxiety looked away. 

“Well,” Sweater spoke up, finger on his chin, thinking, “we could always go with our functions and nicknames! Like you could be Creativity, or Prince, and _I_ could be Dad, or Morality.” He turned towards Logan, pointing. “And I guess you could go back to Logic! It has the same first few letters of your real name, anyway.”

“That doesn't help with the whole keeping our names secret, Morality.” Anxiety rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, leave him be, Bad-Eyeshadow Moody," the price quipped back. 

“Yes, well. Logic is an acceptable alternative” Frisk listened to the back-and-forth, all the while watching Lo, thinking. First few letters the same, huh? 

"Lolo!” They all turned to look at them. 

“I'm sorry, Frisk, what is this in regards to?” Lo looked down at the child, both brows raised. 

“Lolo,” they repeated, smile faltering slightly. There was a beat of silence, Logic's eyebrows slowly coming down, resting in a furrow as he was undoubtedly coming to realize...

“Pffft, oh my dear, sweet, druids! That's their nickname for you!” Prince Ro had nearly doubled up in laughter, even Anxiety had bit out a snort, and Morality was smiling wide again, hands clasped at his cheek. 

“Oh, my goodness! I lo _lo_ ve it!” Logic leveled an unimpressed expression at him. “Oh, it's so cute, it's perfect for you!” That just resulted in him flushing as he glared at him. 

“I'll thank all of you to not use it.” He adjusted his glasses. 

“Come on, Brainiac, let their creativity,” Prince Creativity struck a pose, “be encouraged!”

“Nothing about you needs encouragement.”

“What did I tell you about being nice?” warned Da- no, they'd probably be sticking to Morality for him, shaking his finger at Logic. Even _they_ didn't jump to calling someone dad _this_ early on. “They came up with that nickname all on their own, Ro- Princey's right, you should let them use it!” 

Patton looked away for a moment, eyes unfocused. "Although, wouldn't it be Loglog, then?" Patton muttered under his breath. 

There was a long pause as Logic ground his jaw a little, eyes furrowing. 

“...Fffiiiiiine.”

“Yay! Ooh, do me next, do me next!” Morality waved his hand in the air, like he was waiting to be called on. 

“How about we go figure out how to get out of here, instead of stalling?” Anxiety spoke up again, making a little ‘go on’ gesture with his hands. Prince and Lo sighed. Frisk looked worriedly at him and to the doorway, then nodded.

“Don't worry, everybody, I'll go first, to ensure everyone's safety!”

“We'll go to _ge_ ther, Princey.” corrected Morality. “We work best as a team anyway!” Frisk watched as the four of them stepped close together, not able to quite walk through the door at the same time, but at least following quickly after one another, Morality (was he _their_ father?) last, encouraging them to follow. 

Frisk wasn't really sure what was going to happen next, but it was sure to be interesting. Very interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started writing this, it was my first time writing the sides, but I knew that I had to write this when I came up with what will wind up being the best part of this thing; Joan's bit after the sides fall in. Joan's the best, I had to give them the best line.
> 
> Next chapter we get their soul colors, how exciting! Who's got predictions?


End file.
